The Gretna Escape
by KatieClay
Summary: Various themes - mainly Nick/Marian. Fits in-between series' to explain the departure of Nick Burnett, Marion McKaig and Adam Carnegie in more detail! Rated T, just to be safe - not sure what I might write later on....
1. Family Ties

**A/N: Putting Mike and Marion temporarily on hold (due to a new found love of Nick Burnett) a little bit M/N to entertain you all :D A few other themes to discover along the way as well. This story is set just after the episode "Compromising Positions" and before "Counting Chickens". Basically (for those who may not have seen either episodes) Bobby (the ambulance driver) was stabbed, practically as Nick showed up at the scene. I'm also aiming to try and explain the disappearance of and Nick and Marian....so not too much to go on!! Sorry for the short chapter, just a bit of scene setting. Enjoy etc.....Roll on Chapter 1......**

The world became suddenly still.

He sat there, like a child, his thoughts not really there at all. He didn't want to move, think, talk. He just wanted to sit, as he was now, staring. She was there somewhere; she'd hovered at the door, just watching him. His eyes had caught matron pulling her away, leading her. They were talking about him, but right now, for the first time, he didn't care who he was upsetting, he just wanted to sit.

Nick wished he was in a coma, not because he wished he was dead, he just wished he could no longer feel. The senses that he usually craved, bathed in, he wished were gone. Every inch of his body he could feel, every minute felt like an hour, every noise seemed a mile away. His eyes turned to his hands, held out before him like a child, red. He could feel the dampness of it all, the warmth that still lingered. They talked of murderers having blood on their hands, never doctors; it was all he could do not to vomit.

Marion had stood by the treatment room door, arms folding, watching him sit there. It worried her that he didn't move, didn't seem to be noticing the dark pattern of blood that had sprinkled itself onto his face. Like a girl, she had stood there, daring herself to go in, but fate had intervened. Matron's hand on her shoulder had stopped her, the words "Let's talk in my office" drawing her from her vigil.

In his office, Mr. Carnegie placed the phone gently back onto the receiver. The conversations of the last hour had not been easy. The first, a phone call to Bobby's parents about his death, had been received somewhat too lightly by his mother. The incoming calls that followed consisted of a torrent of hungry press, eager to interview him about the mortality rate of the staff at St. Aiden's.

Adam sat back in his chair and pondered the situation in his mind. All the phone calls seemed so trivial in the scale of things; it was his job, yet seemingly nothing against the lives that had been lost. He'd been here, what, two years now? Yet he'd never felt this sentimental before. It was as though Bobby had been his brother, his friend, yet he hardly had known him. The whole hospital was grieving more than the boy's own mother, and what was stranger was that Adam was grieving with them. Hell, he'd become part of the family.

His mind flashed back to his first day; Middleditch shaking hands with Gordon, kissing Matron on the cheek, making her blush profoundly, saying goodbye to his colleagues; only they'd been more than that. Adam hadn't understood how employees could be friends. When he'd talked about it to Middleditch later, insistent he could never become that close, his words had been simple as he'd handed Adam the slip of paper, 'Just in Case'.

Now Carnegie stood by the old safe that he had refused to use, turning the dial to the numbers on the same slip of paper; "1-8-8-6". The door swung, albeit stiffly, open. It was hardly what he had expected, but it felt all right all the same. A bottle of Whiskey and a piece of paper with two simple words "Welcome Home". Scotch. Adam had to admit, Middleditch had taste.


	2. Tea for Two

**A/N: Chapter 2 :D Not really much to say on this one, just did a little bit of character exploration!**

Reluctantly, Marion allowed herself to be led by Matron down the winding corridors of The Royal. The gentle hand that rested on her spine fell as they passed patients and colleagues, but was swiftly replaced after their passing. It provided little reassurance, but Marion was grateful of its presence.

The muddle of emotions were more than confusing for her right now. Normally she would know exactly how to handle things, but this was Nick, he was the one who held things together, what was she meant to do? Marion wasn't even sure why Matron wanted to talk to her, maybe she'd heard through the grapevine about Nick, but more likely it was about Bobby.

Barely without realizing, Marion found herself sat in the stiff-backed chair in Matron's office, but the soft click of the door brought her back to her senses.

Matron paused as she pushed the door closed, twisting the lock to ensure that they would not be disturbed. She quickly ran through the plan of action in his mind. Taking a breath, she turned and smiled at Marion, before seating herself at her desk.

The two women sat facing each other for a moment or two. The closest bond to Mother and Daughter there could be under the circumstances showing between their eyes.

"Nurse McKaig…." She paused

"Matron."

"As you are probably aware, Drs Ormerod and Wetherill are otherwise engaged at the present moment, and as such Dr. Burnett has been partner in charge, but under the current circumstances I have temporarily assumed a similar role." She paused, unsure of how to continue. Marion nodded, urging her to carry on.

"I therefore assumed the duty of opening the correspondence. It was while, routinely checking, I came across this." Matron hovered over her desk, before retrieving an opened envelope and holding it out to Marion.

Marion blinked at Matron, and the envelope, before taking it in her hands. The almost incomprehensible doctor's scrawl on the brown paper was difficult to decipher, but years of practice led Marion to believe it was addressed to Dr. J. Wetherill. Assuming she was meant to read the contents, rather than it's label, Marion slid the paper from within; a quick scan of the typed document made her freeze:

PATIENT: Miss M. J. McKaig

DOCTOR: J. Wetherill

PREGNANCY TEST: Positive

Awkward was an understatement of what Marion was feeling; embarrassment, shock and uncertainty rolled into one emotion that she wasn't sure there was a word for. Her hands trembled, the small paper quivering between her fingers. Of course, it wasn't a complete shock, or at least it shouldn't have been. Obviously she'd suspected something when she'd asked Jill to test; but she'd come to the conclusion that the extra meals with Nick had made her gain weight and put the rest down to hormones. In fact, she had put it out of her mind so much that she'd practically forgotten the whole idea; pregnant was the last thing she expected to be.

The image of Nick smiling happily as she told him the news quickly dissolved into the lost and unhappy figure she had seen earlier. This was hardly the way she'd planned it. Still, before Nick, she had other people to contend with before she even left this room.

Matron had hardly moved since Marion had opened the envelope, instead she studied her expression, trying her hardest to fathom what the girl was feeling. There was certainly a lot of confusion in her face, and a little bit of fright, but the hand on the stomach and a flicker of a smile showed Matron all she needed to know; Marion was happy to be a mother.

The young nurse became suddenly aware that she hadn't moved in a while, and was becoming somewhat emotional infront of Matron. She folded the results peper and slid it gentley inyo her pocket and, swallowing encroaching tears, looked up at the figure behind the desk.

"Was that all, Matron?" The voice was not dismissive, but all she could manage to utter. Her voice quavered and she rose from the chair, somewhat hurriedly, but Matron had no intention of letting her go.

"Sit down for a while, collect yourself." Her words were comforting. "I took the liberty of making us tea, and buying some shortbread." Matron pushed the tea tray towards her. Marion resumed her seat.

The two sipped tea in silence. Marion took the time to enjoy being away from the world, from the people that she knew would judge her; her parents, her colleagues, Nick. She could tell Matron somehow understood, and the deliberate diversion from the world she had created was now welcomed. Matron broke the silence with an unexpected question.

"I assume Dr. Burnett is not yet aware of your circumstance." Marion swallowed her mouthful of tea sharply, and glared up at Matron.

"Dr. Burnett…how…what...How did you know he was…is…?" Matron complacently shuffled the papers on her desk before turning her face to Marion.

"Because, Miss McKaig, due to Dr. Burnett's current situation, I thought it best to inform his mother only, in his notes, one Marion Jane McKaig is the named next of kin."


	3. Blood on His Hands

**Sorry for the delay, various things have tied me up. But I never like to leave a fanfic unfinished - so I've returned to finish the story, with a little bit of pushing from a couple of people! I think there'll be around 5/6 chapters by the time I'm finished, but enjoy this for now. Better get back to writing!**

Warm and clear, the water from the sluice room tap fell against his stained hands. Nick eased the crusting blood from either palm with his thumb, and watched the redness circle the sink and slip down into the drain. How easy, he thought, it was to wash away a life.

He wasn't angry, he wasn't upset; he wasn't guilty or even distraught. He felt peaceful, melancholy and empty. He wanted to want Marion. He wanted to look into her eyes and remember the first time that he saw her. He wanted to be back in the train wreck, frantically searching for her. He wanted the rush of adrenaline the first time he kissed her. He wanted to feel something, anything. Instead, he wanted to be alone.

Nick peered into the corridor and, finding it empty, slipped along it and into his office. Sitting at his desk, he couldn't concentrate. The depression that surrounded him was taking over his consciousness and rationality. He needed to be away, he needed to be outside the hospital. The thought of treating another casualty patient simply made him think of Bobby. The thought of seeing blood made his stomach turn. He couldn't stay here. Pulling open a drawer in his desk, he took a leaf of paper, a pen and began to write. His resignation letter was short. He signed it simply Nick Burnett, feeling unworthy of the title Doctor.

The next letter was not so easily constructed. He knew he had to write it, he didn't know why, just that he did. He still loved her, he knew. He knew it, but he couldn't feel it. He just wanted to be alone, and he didn't want to hate her for just being there, and loving him.

He didn't read back to himself what he'd written, he just signed it 'Nick' and folded it into an envelope, sealed it and addressed it to Marion.

A knock on the door awakened him from his melancholy contemplation. The door edged open, Marion sidled in.

"How are you?" She studied his face, but he looked past her, to Lizzie who had appeared in the doorway.

"Doctor, sorry to disturb you, but you're the only Doctor here, and well, there's a patient in casualty...Your lights are up."


	4. In the Presence of Strangers

**A/N - Sorry, once again for the delay! Got the next couple of chapters to keep you going for a while. Going to be a bit longer than I first expected, so watch this space for the final 3 chapters! Enjoy x**

By the time Nick had reached Casualty, a small crowd had gathered around the doorway. He had to push his way through, muttering brief apologies as he did so. The commotion was not of a particular interest to him; the pit of persistent terror was all that was nagging his mind. Entering the room, the reason behind the sudden interest in the patients became apparent. The deep laceration to the lower leg was of no particular significance, but the patient was non other that Mr T.J Middleditch.

Although all eyes were on his casualty, Nick couldn't help but feel like they were watching his every move, begging for him to make a mistake. His mind wandered, as he pleaded desperately with it to focus. Managing to mumble through the pleasantries, offering pain relief and deciding on a course of action, Nick felt like he had achieved very little, but yet felt like he had climbed a mountain. Heart pounding, and hands shaking, he fumbled with the wound. In the silence somebody coughed, startling him, and causing Middleditch to wince in pain.

"Enough, enough!" Middleditch grumbled. His tone softened. "Matron, would you be kind enough to relieve us of our audience? I've had quite enough of being the centre of attention for the meantime."

"As you wish, Mr. Middleditch." Matron pushed her way through the doorway, and though neither party could hear what words came from her lips, it was obvious that they were effective. The crowd dispersed, if not without a final glance into the room, and peace was assumed once more.

Without the audience, Dr Burnett found it possible to muddle his way through the procedure, closely under the watchful eye of Matron, who was wise enough to keep her presence discreet and unintimidating. Satisfied at last that his work was complete, Dr Burnett signed the relevant forms for Matron, smiled at Middleditch, and excused himself from the room.

The last few minutes seemed to have lasted a lifetime, and now it was over he felt adrenaline filled and emotional. Trying to use his extensive medical knowledge to try and understand the stages of grief or shock that he was going through failed, and emotionally he began to panic. He had to restrain himself from running to his office, and was only settled when the door had finally closed behind him.


	5. A Welcome Escape

The heather on the moors gave out a multitude of colours as Marion drove steadily along the top road, Elsinby falling away behind her. It was the first time since her arrival that she'd truly had the chance to explore the world around the Nurses' Home, even with Nick they'd spent most of their time within the confines of the town, and she was enjoying every minute of her journey.

The moors reminded her slightly of her home in Scotland, less remote, but almost as exciting and wild. She pulled over for a while by the side of the road, let the breeze run through her hair and studied the valley below, wondering in the beauty of it all. She had promised that this drive would be the time when she would forget all of her problems, unsolved as they were, and just enjoy the freedom of being away from everything.

The sky blue, the road ahead welcoming, Marion would have been able to forget her problems easily, if it wasn't for the hormones running through her body, reminding her every five minutes that she was pregnant, and that Nick was….well, she didn't know quite what was running through his mind. She focused on the road ahead, an odd craving for blackberries forcing her to scourer the side of the road with her eyes as she drove along, knowing full-well that she would be lucky to find some.

The village of Aidensfield seemed a nightmare to find. Every road she turned down seemed to lead to another signpost for "Aidensfield 5 miles", that she became convinced she must be driving circles around the darn place. Eventually, however, the small row of shops appeared, and she discarded the map she had been trying to follow.

Marion parked the car outside of the small house with the dark green door, sandwiched between the village store and the post office. She wandered over to it and knocked slowly, shuffling awkwardly as the shopping locals nosily looked her up and down, but to her relief the door was pulled open, and there stood Carol, smiling down at her.

"Marion….what a nice surprise! Come in!" The friendliness was exactly what Marion had been looking for, and smiling came all too easily. Her coat was taken, her shoes put to one side, and she was led into the cosy front room, where tea and biscuits was promptly served.

Carol had plenty of stories to tell about Australia, and her mother, and the weather, and some policeman called Joe, and rants about women she didn't like, deaths in the village, patients that were hypochondriacs, the village flower contest, the price of beer in the pub. Marion listened with a smile, her own problems melting away from the back of her mind. Then the question that she'd come here to be asked, yet was dreading all the same, hit her with full force.

"So, enough about me. How are you doing?" Marion slowly placed her cup down onto the table in the middle of the room.

"Actually, Carol, that's what I came to talk about. I need your help."

"Oh God, what's wrong?"

"I'm pregnant."

"I see…and is Nick…?"

"Yes he's the father. No I haven't told him."

"Why? You haven't…? Have you got doubts?"

"I don't know. Nick's not himself, Carol. A friend of his was killed this morning, he saw everything, he did everything he could, but…..And I only found out today about the baby, and I don't know what to do, Carol….he's just a mess….I just can't….I don't know what to do." Marion's eyes welled up with tears, but she could just about stop them from falling. Carol put her arms around her friend, and held her for a few minutes. She spoke as she held her close.

"You know what you have to do. Marion. You don't have to speak to me. You have to speak to Nick."


	6. Heart to Heart

**A/N: Sorry I've been so long, once again. I'm trying to get this fiction wrapped up - I know there's many of you waiting for me to end this one! Hopefully it will be complete in a couple of days!**

The Royal was calmer than usual in the early evening, most of the casualties having been directed to Ashfordly General. The steady clicking of a lone nurse's heels along the corridor outside Matron's office was all that could be heard of the outside world. The teapot, the same one that had served Marion earlier, sat between Middleditch and Matron, waiting to be poured.

Middleditch took up a majority of space in the small office; the wooden seats had been pushed aside to make room for his wheelchair, and his leg was held forward, forcing him to sit quite a way back from Matron's desk. The conversation about the staffing problem had drawn to a close, and Matron sighed. Middleditch smiled.

"It will all turn out fine, Matron. Now if you will excuse me. I think I need to speak with Dr. Burnett."

"Of course. Would you like me to take you there?"

"If you would be so kind. Thank you."

Matron struggled with the wheelchair, but eventually managed to shuffle it out of her office and into the corridor. She tapped lightly on Nick's door, and guided Middleditch through in response to the words from inside. Satisfied that the two would prefer to be left alone, she hurried back to her office, closing the door firmly behind her.

Inside the office, Nick smiled weakly at Mr. Middleditch, who offered a re-assuring smile in response. They let the silence sit between them for a moment or two, before Middleditch began the conversation.

"I know you're troubled, Nick."

"You do?" Nick was hardly surprised that he did, but it felt necessary all the same.

"Yes. And I know this isn't just about Bobbie."

"It isn't?" Nick winced a little at the name, feeling a surge of emotion.

"I've worked in hospitals long enough to know that you're doing what most people do in your situation, you're pushing people away, you're making yourself feel worse. You can't put this on yourself. As I was wheeled out of the ambulance this afternoon, I saw a certain young lady hurrying in the other direction, one Nurse McKaig, who I believe you are…acquainted with?"

"Marion…? I just can't, not now…She wouldn't, I couldn't…Not after today."

Silence fell in the room as Middleditch let Nick mull over what he had just said, but all he saw was the young doctor sink deeper inside himself. There was something about him that he connected to, he didn't know why. It was after much deliberation that he came to his decision.

"Dr. Burnett, I wish to share something with you. It's something I've never told anyone before…"

Nick nodded, and Middleditch began his story.


	7. War Torn

**Southern England, June 1st, 1940**

What should have been a summer's day was reminiscent of a winter scene. Hurtling waves crashed upon the shore and the wind blew a foamy spray across the rocky beach. A row of perfectly uniformed nurses straightened themselves against the storm, struggling to keep their posture against the fierce gale. A young sister stood in the middle, nervously adjusting from one foot to the other, gripping onto her cape and resisting the urge to shiver.

She watched the boat battle against the towering waves and cursed under her breath as it fought to keep afloat. Surely they had been through enough? The beach was lined with volunteers, grocers, farmers, fishermen had all turned out to help, despite the pitiful weather; doing whatever they could to help. Laden with stretchers, they waited for the moment they were needed.

As the boat crashed against the shore, the crowd surged towards the hull. The beach became alive with action and noise, the nervous silence making way for the eager volunteers cries of instruction, and the soldiers' cries of help. The young nurse became suddenly frozen, the enormity of it all becoming too much. Usually so confident faced with adversity, she cursed herself for feeling quite so useless, trying her best to fight through stretchers and find herself a patient.

A shaken soldier stood himself up from the soaked deck and looked out across the beach, wincing against the pain that ran through his body. He staggered slightly, swaying as he tried to remember where he was, and how he had come to be there. Putting on a brave face he stepped forward, stumbling against the side of the boat. The next thing he felt was the damp sand against his face, the cool sea lapping at his feet, and a soft hand around his wrist.

The nurse had seen him fall, finally feeling the rush of adrenaline she was used to. Fighting with the sand, she rushed to his side and tried desperately to pull his feet from the ebbing tide.

"Are you alright? Can you hear me? Please tell me you're alright…." The terror that he was already dead ran through her body. Thankfully, a muffled moan, and the opening of his eyes calmed her worries. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Where are we? Are we in Dunkirk?"

"No Sir, we're in Dover."  
"I didn't know the nurses were quite so pretty in Dover." The solider gave a wink, and tried to sit up, falling back to the ground with a moan.

"Maybe save the compliments for later, Sir. Now then, let's have your name, please."

"They call me T.J…..and you?"

"They call me Toffee…..but you can call me Sister." A stern tone, the tone she used with all her patients, but this time, for the first time, she said it with a smile.


	8. Sound Advice

The hospital was large, chaotic and crowded with wounded. The sea of khaki did nothing to help Toffee, but still she searched in every spare minute she had, for three days, to find her soldier. The first time she found him they lost track of time and chatted for an hour, and the second visit they talked about the trouble she'd been in with Matron for going missing for so long.

As the days crept by, it became apparent that the Solider and his Nurse were in love. Whether by co-incidence or situation, they had fallen for each other completely and, before long, bedside discussions were evenings spent on the promenade, before returning to the ward.

It was a Sunday when Walter died.

T.J watched as his friend, who had been beside him through everything, went from good, to bad, to worse. He watched him shake with the fever that infected his wounds, he watched his slowly slip away into the unfairness that was his death.

Toffee didn't come on Sunday. Nor did she come the day afterwards. By the time Tuesday came, T.J had withdrawn into himself, the images of Walter being a focus for his every thought.

The evening walks were not the same any more, Toffee did everything she could to awaken his spirits, but nothing she did would help.

It was Friday when she got her transfer. A convalescent home in Yorkshire. There was nothing she could do to stay.

And then she was gone.

"She wrote to me, every week. I replied with stony words, I pushed her further and further away, until it hurt me as much as I could bear. I should have told her that I loved her, that I would come and find her. I should have asked her to marry me, Nick. She stopped writing to me after a couple of months, we ran out of things to say. The next thing I heard, she was engaged to an airman. We never spoke again."

"Never?"

"Not until she arrived here. Her fiancé was killed, and she had nowhere to go. I'd been no use to the army since Dunkirk, and so I'd found myself in the family business of managing this hospital. Toffee looked me up, I gave her the position of Matron, and she's been here ever since."

"Matron?"

"Really Dr Burnett, you must learn to keep up with staff gossip. Don't make the same mistakes as me, Nick, if you love Marion, tell her, don't let grief pull you apart."


End file.
